


Hemlock, Arrows, and Other Romantic Gestures

by dragon_with_a_teacup



Category: Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard - Rick Riordan, RIORDAN Rick - Works
Genre: Alex is emotionally inept and that's okay, Blushing Magnus Chase, Chierro, Fluff, Kissing, Light Angst, Multi, Romance, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, because Fierrochase is not creative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-27 08:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17763695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_with_a_teacup/pseuds/dragon_with_a_teacup
Summary: Valentine's Day has arrived in Hotel Valhalla. Alex Fierro is displeased. Fluff ensues (as does violence, which is, of course, the Norse way).





	Hemlock, Arrows, and Other Romantic Gestures

When Alex Fierro woke up, he did not expect to be assaulted by a vision of red and pink.

He sat up, groaning and staring around. “Oh gods, what now?”

He was in the process of rolling out of bed when he heard a knock on the door. He strode over to it and yanked it open. Magnus stood in the doorway, and Alex stepped back to let him in.

“Oh dammit, yours is like this too?”

Eyes transfixed on the sight before him, Magnus reached up and spun one of the dangling paper hearts. The tree in the center of the main room was bedecked with hanging decorations—most of them hearts, but also a few roses and vaguely Cupid-shaped figures too.

“Cupid isn’t even Norse,” Magnus protested when he spotted it, frowning in confusion.

“What,” Alex said, hands on his hips, “is going on here?”

“Don’t ask me.”

“It is too early in the morning for this shit,” Alex declared. As he passed, he grabbed Magnus’ sleeve and dragged him along to breakfast.

The lounge of floor nineteen was, unfortunately, afflicted with the same pink-and-red infection. Already at their usual table, T.J. sat with his food, looking around with skepticism.

“So you didn’t do this either, clearly,” Alex said, sitting down.

“Of course not.”

“I bet it was Halfborn,” Alex muttered darkly.

Magnus chuckled beside him. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised about what?” the loud voice of Halfborn Gunderson announced the berserker’s arrival, Mallory at his side. “And which of you did all this?”

In unison, the three at the table spun around to face him. “You didn’t?” Alex asked.

Halfborn raised his eyebrows. “No. And before you ask, no, the Hotel has never celebrated Valentine’s Day before.”

“Well who the hell decided we should start?” Alex fumed. “Who do I have to slap?”

“It’s not that bad,” Magnus said. “It’s just some Valentine’s decorations. I mean, yeah, it was kind of a surprise to wake up to, and it is a bit… garish, but the idea isn’t bad. Nothing wrong with a celebration of love.”

“You’re repulsive.”

“It’s odd, though,” Halfborn said. He and Mallory sat down with their food. “Valentine’s was originally a Roman tradition, later taken over and altered by Christians.”

“Exactly,” Alex cried. “So what is it doing in Valhalla?”

All he got in response was a collective shrug.

* * *

The rest of the day progressed normally—well, normal for Hotel Valhalla standards. Alex made a new vase on his wheel, while Magnus sat beside him reading aloud, both of them deliberately ignoring the decorations twirling above their heads. They had been making steady progress through a reread of _Harry Potter_ together, though Alex much preferred when he was the one reading aloud. He did a killer Snape impression. Still, hearing Magnus attempt to pull off multiple character voices was kind of endearing.

Not that Alex was planning on telling Magnus that.

Later, they went to the practice battle—group combat today. That was where things got weird again.

“What?” T.J. exclaimed. He clutched his bayonet to his chest as if it were his firstborn child. “What do you mean, I can’t take that to the battle?”

Hunding shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, boss’ orders. I don’t know why, but no outside weapons are allowed in today.”

“Hey!” Alex exclaimed when a raven fluttered in out of nowhere and plucked the garrote from his fingers. “Give that back, you little—”

“Now, now,” Hunding cut him off. “Don’t fret. You won’t be going into battle unarmed. Just a little festive surprise!”

“Festive?” Alex growled.

He already hated this. Next to him, Magnus handed over Jack’s pendant with great reluctance. “Hunding, can’t you tell us what’s going on?”

Hunding grimaced. “Sorry, Magnus. I was told it must be a surprise.”

As he spoke he wrapped a hand around the bayonet and pulled it out of T.J.’s grasp. The boy staggered forward, looking as if someone had just kicked a puppy in front of him. “You’ll get your weapons back after the battle, rest assured,” Hunding told him.

“More like rest in pieces,” Alex grumbled. “Come on, T.J.” He swung an arm around his shoulders and they strode through the doors into the battle arena with Magnus.

Mallory and Halfborn waited for them, casting mutinous glances back at Hunding. The other warriors gathered in clusters, muttering. Everyone seemed on edge. Well, at least no one had the advantage at the moment.

“I don’t like this at all,” Magnus fretted. “I feel so exposed.”

“ _You_ do?” T.J. said in a strangled voice. “I’ve never fought a battle without that bayonet!”

“You’ll be fine,” Alex said. “We’ve got your back.”

T.J. sighed. Magnus wrung his hands, as if longing for a sword hilt to grasp. He turned to Halfborn and Mallory. “Either of you know what this is about?”

“Not at all,” Mallory said, “but I doubt it’s anything good.”

At that moment, the doors closed after the last einherjar entered the space. And from several side doors scattered along the edges of the massive area, carts rolled in. In the carts—

“Oh, kill me now so I can leave,” Alex groaned. “Spare me from this bullshit.”

“No,” Magnus said.

Alex huffed.

The battle began; the hallmates raced for the nearest cart. Alex seized a pair of weapons, shoving the second one into Magnus’ chest as he examined his own.

It was a white bow, beautifully curved and carved with an intricate design of vines and—of course—hearts. The string was a truly obnoxious fuschia.

Magnus grabbed two quivers, handed one to Alex, then ducked a fireball that flew over their heads. “Great, so the catapults are still active.”

“Yeah, but… look,” Alex pointed. The flaming ball was in the shape of a heart too. Magnus met his gaze.

He sighed. “Well, Fierro? Shall we?”

“Screw it. Yeah.”

* * *

Alex managed to avoid shooting the bow for a while. He and the rest of the group elected first to find cover while they decided what to do. So they dodged through the chaos until they reached a stand of trees that provided some cover.

Crouching, chest heaving, Magnus pulled out an arrow. “Okay, who knows how to— what the _hell_?”

He held up the arrow, eyes wide in disbelief. It too was made of some kind of pale wood, with the same pattern cut into it. On its end, however, was a scarlet heart that seemed to be made of stone or plastic, the pointed end serving as the tip. Magnus reached out and touched it tentatively, wincing when it drew blood.

“Okay, well as stupid as that was, at least it’s a real arrowhead.”

“Real arrowhead,” Alex scoffed. “That’s a disgrace to weapons.”

Before he or anyone else could speak further, though, a roar sounded. Alex whipped his head up and found a flood of warriors storming their hiding place. As one, the floor nineteen hallmates rose and dove into battle.

Few people in the Hotel were adept at bows. Normally there was such a variety of weapons provided on the field—or allowed inside—that people used what they were accustomed to. Now, the fight felt different as everyone struggled to cause injury, or in some cases, to figure out how to nock an arrow.

Alex managed the latter, but when he let it fly, it skittered in a direction he didn’t intend, completely missing his opponent. Growling, he clamped the bow in his teeth and transformed into a dog, darting between the warrior’s legs and scrambling out of the way. He made it back to the grove of trees and turned back into a human. After a moment’s hesitation, he climbed up the nearest tree and watched, clutching the bow, relieved the quiver was still on his back.

Below, the battle raged on. Halfborn was swinging his bow wildly, knocking over opponents like he was playing a bizarre, violent game of putt-putt. T.J. seemed to be using his weapon as a poor man’s bayonet, though it appeared harder to stab people with the end of a bow. Mallory was holding her own, though she was backed against the trunk of a tree. Still, at least her arrows were flying in the right directions, more often than not finding their marks.

Alex swiveled his head. Where was Magnus?

“Maggie?” he called, though whether or not he made himself heard above the din remained to be seen.

A panicked yell cut through the chaos.

Oh, there he was.

Magnus sprinted back into sight from around the trunk of a tree, fleeing a band of warriors Alex vaguely recognized from floor eighty-four. Magnus’ bow dangled useless from his hand, broken in half.

“Well, shit,” Alex sighed. He fumbled for an arrow from his quiver and nocked it, taking aim. This time, the arrow flew over the warriors’ heads, but still—a better shot than last time. Several of them ducked, then twisted, seeking the source of the arrow. A pair of them soon set eyes on Alex and lifted their own bows.

“Alex?” Magnus called.

“Get out of here, you moron!” Alex cried.

“What are you doing in that tree?”

“Surviving longer than _you_ , apparently!” Alex took aim again and fired down at the group. Magnus dodged arrows that were now flying from every direction. It seemed others had heard the commotion and were being drawn to the grove. The more the merrier.

Alex looked down. Halfborn was on the ground, two arrows sticking out of his back. Mallory was still fighting off two people. T.J. was nowhere to be seen.

Magnus, Alex noticed, had now climbed his own tree. He still had his quiver, and was now trying to throw the arrows down at opponents like tiny, obnoxiously pink spears.

“What are you _doing_?” Alex cried at him, exasperated. “This isn’t a dart-throwing competition!”

“Well, what do you want me to—”

In that moment, though, when Alex had taken his eyes off the fighters below in favor of looking at Magnus, an arrow caught him in the shoulder.

Unfortunately, it was the arm holding his quiver. Pain skittered through his limb, his fingers lost their grip on the strap, and the quiver—along with all his arrows—tumbled to the ground.

Even more unfortunately, another arrow followed the first, this one embedding itself in Alex’s other arm. Which had been holding onto the tree trunk.

Magnus’ cries rang in his ears, but Alex only rolled his eyes as he fell from the tree to his death.

* * *

A few hours later, a still-sore and displeased Alex stepped out from her suite into the hall. She rolled her shoulders. Stupid heart arrows. Stupid holiday. Where was the garrote?

“Hey.”

Alex turned. Magnus strode over to her, hands in his pockets, looking annoyingly well rested and healthy. Stupid Frey blood and its quick healing side effects.

“Hey,” Alex greeted.

“That was a rough landing.” Magnus stopped a few feet away, eyeing her with concern. “You okay?”

Alex nodded. “I’ve had worse.”

“True. Like the time you were swallowed by a lindworm—”

“I thought we agreed not to talk about that!”

Magnus bit down on his lip, chastened but still seeming faintly amused. “Right. Sorry.”

“Should we head down to dinner? Maybe we’ll get answers about who organized this.”

Magnus nodded, and they made for the elevators. The other hallmates were nowhere to be seen, but Alex assumed they’d be in the Feast Hall.

“So how much longer did you last?” Alex asked. They’d once tried to keep score, to see who survived longer more often, but gave it up after just a few weeks after they realized they’d surely lose track over the centuries. Best to call it an eternal draw.

“Umm, probably about thirty seconds,” Magnus admitted. “I jumped out of the tree to try to help you. Of course it was too late, and…” he trailed off, though Alex could surmise the rest. They stepped into the elevator.

“Well, at least it’s over,” Alex pointed out.

“True.” Magnus smiled. “I just hope the Feast Hall isn’t decorated too.”

“I think that’s unrealistically optimistic.” Alex was not listening too closely at the moment, though, still stuck on how Magnus had died today trying to get to Alex. What a moron.

She reached down and squeezed his hand, holding it as they stepped out of the elevator and headed into the Feast Hall.

Just as Alex feared, a party supply store had vomited its Valentine’s aisle inside. The Tree of Laeradr now boasted glittery dangling decorations, as did the antlers of Heidrun the goat and Ike the stag (the latter two looked thoroughly displeased with their new accessories).

T.J. had already found a seat—at a table with a hot pink tablecloth draped over it—and waved them over. He had his bayonet back, and handed over Jack and the garrote.

“Sweet,” Magnus grinned. “Thanks, T.J.”

“No worries. Hunding’s making the rounds giving back the weapons. I grabbed Halfborn and Mallory’s stuff too.”

“I just hope we never have to see those stupid bows ever again,” Alex muttered. She snatched three cups of mead from a passing Valkyrie’s tray and passed two to the boys. “Is Valentine’s Day over yet?”

Magnus shifted. “Alex, I hate to break it to you, but… it’s the thirteenth.”

Alex managed not to spit out her mouthful of mead, but it was a close call. “I beg your pardon?”

Magnus exchanged a grimace with T.J. “Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day.”

Alex slumped back in her seat. “Oh. Gods. Damn. It. That settles it. One of you knock me out. Keep me unconscious until the day after tomorrow.”

T.J. looked unsure whether to laugh or obey, but Magnus just tilted his head at Alex. “What is your deal about this holiday anyway?”

Luckily, Alex was spared answering by the arrival of Mallory and Halfborn, who looked exhausted but welcomed their weapons back with open arms. After they too had gotten mead, they told the stories of their deaths.

Halfborn had, as Alex had seen, taken two arrows to the back, but also one to the chest first. Mallory had been pinned down by the two warriors she’d been fighting and impaled through the neck with an arrow. T.J. had been overpowered early on, too focused on stabbing someone in front of him to notice the person sneaking up from behind.

“You did pretty well, though,” T.J. told Mallory, after Magnus and Alex had told of their own demises. “I didn’t know you knew archery.”

She shrugged. “I guess spending time with this one means you pick up strange bits of knowledge,” she nudged Halfborn in the side, “even if he doesn’t apply them himself.”

“I took out two dozen people!”

“But you looked like you were chopping down trees. Where is your technique?”

Before Halfborn could retort, Alex caught Magnus’ eye. They both were thinking the same thing, because at the same moment they dissolved into giggles.

“What?” the other three asked.

“If… if ya had the chance to change yer fate—” Magnus gasped, clutching his stomach.

“Wood ya,” Alex finished, bent double.

Mallory’s face flamed as red as her hair, even while the others joined in laughing. “She is _Scottish_ , you absolute twats!”

“Same difference,” Halfborn waved a hand.

Alex could see Mallory’s blood pressure rise, but at the moment she opened her mouth—probably to give them a thorough scolding/explanation of why the Scots were vastly inferior to the Irish—Helgi stood at the head table.

“Attention! Brave warriors of Valhalla! I have an announcement.”

“Here we go,” Alex sighed. “Finally I’ll know who to yell at.”

“Odin, the All-Father, has graced us with his presence tonight!” Helgi continued.

Alex froze. “What.”

The main doors into the Feast Hall swung open to reveal Odin, in all his gray-haired, eyepatched godliness. “Greetings!” he boomed.

He made his way to the thanes’ table, which he stood upon, grinning at the gathered einherjar and Valkyries. “I hope everyone is enjoying their winter!”

“Hard to, when we’re from Boston,” Magnus muttered.

“I’m sure you’ve all noticed the changes to our decor,” Odin gestured unnecessarily above them. “I’ve recently decided that we should learn more about other cultures’ traditions. Especially considering many of you warriors are from places where events such as Valentine’s Day are celebrated.” He looked around the Hall, making eye contact with several einherjar. Alex fixed her gaze on her plate. Nope, not today, Odin. Not on this absurd, heart-covered day.

“So tomorrow will be a day of enjoyment and celebration!” Odin continued. “The battle will go on as usual, of course, but throughout the day…”

He reached into his pocket and withdrew a pale pink piece of paper. “Valentines will be delivered. Valkyries, if you would be so kind…”

The Valkyries again soared throughout the room. This time, instead of distributing mead, they passed out papers identical to the one in Odin’s hand. When one dropped onto the table by Alex, she snatched it up.

“What fresh hell—”

She read aloud from the top of the page: “Hotel Valhalla’s 1st Annual Valentine’s Day Celebration… Order Form?”

“I want everyone to fill out their form,” Odin continued. “You can send a message to a friend, girlfriend, boyfriend, anyone. However, if you’d like to send one to an outside-Valhalla party, come see me for the correct form.” He held up a small stack of red papers. “As you can see, there are other options to go with your valentines too.” He grinned. “So let’s enjoy ourselves! And at dinner tomorrow night, we sacrifice a goat!”

That finally got a positive reaction from the crowd. Alex, though not entirely captivated by the idea of watching a goat die for fun, still applauded the break from sparkles and nonsense. Halfborn leaned in and said to the table,

“That’s the Roman influence. They used to sacrifice goats, before the Christians—”

He didn’t finish what was sure to be a mildly tedious history lesson, though, as Odin resumed his speech. “So fill out your forms and give them to the thanes! I will see you all tomorrow at dinner! If you have any questions, Helgi can assist you.”

He departed with far too much spring in his step considering the circumstances, at least in Alex’s view. The Hall filled with murmuring as people contemplated the forms in front of them, or pointed out how Ike the deer was now scraping his antlers against a branch of the tree in an attempt to knock off the paper hearts affixed to the tips.

“Wait a second,” Magnus said, drawing Alex’s attention.

“What’s up?”

Magnus leaned in, pointing, and Alex peered at the form in his hand.

HOTEL VALHALLA 1ST ANNUAL VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION  
ORDER FORM

  
Valentine text (please print neatly): ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
      Singing? (Yes / No)  
Extras (circle all that apply):  
Flower bouquets  
      Roses (red / pink / white)  
      Carnations (red / pink / white)  
      Hemlock (white)  
      Lilies (red / pink / white)  
Chocolates  
      Sword  
      Axe  
      Bow and arrow  
      Spear  
Confetti

“What does ‘singing’ mean?”

“Probably like a singing telegram or some shit. Or maybe they’re going to sic Jack on people to serenade them,” Alex said. “I’m more concerned about the hemlock bouquet, personally.”

“I’m surprised you’re surprised. This is Valhalla, after all.”

“Touche.”

They all filled out the forms—Alex in a rather slapdash way—then handed them to a passing thane. Citing fatigue, Mallory and Halfborn stood up and headed out of the Hall. T.J. followed, and Alex stood too.

“Coming, Maggie?”

“Yeah.” After a moment’s hesitation, Magnus stood, though Alex thought she could detect something troubled behind his eyes. The others had already caught an elevator, so they took the next one up to floor nineteen silently—well, nearly. They were just passing the twelfth floor when Magnus abruptly spoke.

“So seriously, what’s your deal with Valentine’s Day?”

Alex managed not to sigh. “I just think it’s pretty stupid, that’s all.”

A pause, then: “What, do you have something against romance?”

Magnus’ tone clearly meant to sound nonchalant, but Alex detected a twinge of hurt underneath the surface. And that, more than anything else, made Alex’s heart drop into her stomach.

“No, it… it’s not that.” Alex sighed. “I just think the whole concept of Valentine’s Day has gotten stupid. It’s a bastardization of a pagan holiday, made into a Christian one, and now is just an excuse for selling tons of cards and candy and flowers. Seems pointless.”

“I don’t know.” Magnus’ voice was smaller even than his shrug. “I think it’s important to remind someone you care about them. Little gifts, gestures, they can be nice sometimes, you know?”

Alex nodded but didn’t reply. The elevator doors opened and they stepped out. In front of Magnus’ door, they stopped. Magnus’ normally bright gaze seemed sadder, and Alex cursed herself.

“Goodnight,” she whispered, and moved closer. At least he kissed her back.

“Goodnight, Alex.”

She waited just long enough for his door to shut behind him and for the sound of the water running in his bathroom—no, of course she wasn’t pressing her ear to the door—before she raced back down the hallway and rammed her finger into the elevator button.

The journey down to the foyer seemed interminable. Alex forced herself through the doors before they had opened fully, then flew down the hallway.

Helgi stood at the main desk, sorting the valentine order forms into piles. Alex skidded to a halt in front of him.

“I need my order form back.”

Helgi raised an eyebrow at her. “And why might that be?”

Alex squared her shoulders. “Because I need to make some adjustments. Now hand it over.”

* * *

The morning of Valentine’s Day dawned annoying sunny. However, Alex rolled out of bed with far less grumbling than usual. After all, she had a Magnus to pamper.

She threw on her clothes and hurried out into the hallway. She paused outside Magnus’ door and listened for any sounds from within. Nothing. That either meant he was still sleeping, or was already up and about.

“Looking for Magnus?” T.J.’s voice carried down the corridor. “He’s already up.” Then, after she turned to face him, he blinked. “What… what are you wearing?”

She glanced down at her outfit: Hotel Valhalla T-shirt, black jeans, emerald green Converse. “What’s wrong with this?”

“You just… No pink?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I think Valhalla has enough pink today without me adding to it. Anyway, do you know where he went?”

“I think he mentioned something about some work he had to do at Chase Space?”

“Shit!”

T.J.’s eyes widened. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Alex groaned. (She was lying.) “I just… had plans.”

T.J. started to grin. “Well, he mentioned he’d probably be back in a couple hours. Want me to send him your way when he does?”

Alex shook her head. “No, that’s okay.” She pulled out her runestone key, pressed it to the mark on Magnus’ door, and the door swung open.

T.J. gaped. “Did you steal Magnus’ room key?”

Alex grinned and tossed the rune up in the air, letting it flip end over end a few times before catching it in her palm. “Nope. I did bribe Hunding to code mine to open both, though.”

He laughed. “Of course you did.”

“And don’t get your uniform in a twist—Magnus knows.”

He raised his arms in mock surrender. “Hey, I wasn’t gonna rat you out!”

She winked before stepping into Magnus’ rooms. “See ya later, man.”

As she closed the door behind her and surveyed the suite—adorned with the same lurid, ostentatious decorations as her own—she smiled.

To business.

* * *

An hour later, Alex paced back and forth in the main foyer. Everything was ready; all Alex needed was the main element of the plan.

Unfortunately, she worried that element was now avoiding her.

“Idiot,” she muttered under her breath. In response, a passing group of Valkyries eyed her warily.

All around were signs of Valentine’s Day. Paper hearts, streamers, glitter—everything one might expect. People carried large bouquets of flowers, or gorged themselves on lifesize chocolate weapons. The ravens and wolves of Valhalla (with heart-shaped flower wreaths around their necks, naturally) darted around delivering valentines. Occasionally those valentines would burst into song. And since these songs exclusively contained lyrics and notes written by undead Norse warriors, they were not what one might call Top 40 hits.

Alex wanted to hate it, wanted to scoff and scorn and deride. But the memory of Magnus from the night before, with the poorly disguised hurt in his expression, made her pause and try to see things from his point of view.

And as she watched couple after couple embrace, smiling and laughing and kissing after their gifts were delivered, she supposed maybe he had a point.

Now if only he’d show up already so Alex could show him some damn affection.

Mallory and Halfborn passed, arm in arm, swinging matching chocolate swords and spears. The former waved at Alex. “We’re going to see how well these hold up in combat!” she called.

Alex laughed. “Have fun, you two!”

Hunding passed in the other direction. Alex grabbed his arm. “Hey, Hunding, have you seen Magnus come back in?”

He shook his head. “No. But if I do, I’ll tell you.” He did a double-take. “You aren’t wearing pink?”

She rolled her eyes. “Not today. Thought I’d stand out better this way.”

He nodded. “Makes sense. Well, have a happy Valentine’s Day!”

She watched him go with a sigh. “I’m trying to.”

Finally, fifteen minutes later, the doors to Boston swung open. Alex had been lounging on one of the couches by the fireplace, doing her best to ignore the couple next to her who hadn’t come up for air in at least five minutes. At the sight of the doors opening, though, she leaped to her feet in relief.

Magnus walked in, hands in his pockets, eyes a bit more downcast than the occasion warranted. Before Alex could do more than straighten her shirt and make sure her hair was in at least some order, Magnus was bombarded.

A cluster of ravens descended upon him—though from where, Alex wasn’t sure. Magnus staggered back, lifting his arms to defend himself, but he lowered them when he realized the birds weren’t attacking him. Rather, they were clutching gifts.

The largest, most insistent raven held a massive bouquet of red roses and pink carnations, which it dropped into Magnus’ arms before soaring away. The second raven landed on his shoulder and brandished an intricately molded chocolate axe, which Magnus took with an obliging if feeble nod. The third raven positioned itself directly on top of Magnus’ head and, with evident glee, upended a basket of pink, silver, and red confetti over him.

The fourth and final raven waited patiently at Magnus’ feet until the other three had departed. When it had the chance, it hopped up onto his shoulder, dropped a magenta envelope on top of the flowers, then took to the air again.

Magnus looked around wildly, as if wondering if all that had been a hallucination. Which was Alex’s cue.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, dork.” She crossed the foyer to him. His stunned expression made her grin. “I wish I had recorded all that.”

“Alex,” Magnus said, “is this all… from you?”

“Guilty as charged, my dude,” she said with a triumphant nod.

Before either of them could speak again, however, another raven arrived. This one held only a single red rose in its beak, which it placed in Alex’s hand with care. Tied to the rose’s stem was an envelope identical to the one Magnus had.

She met Magnus’ still-astonished gaze with a smile and linked her arm with his. “Come on. The surprises aren’t over yet.”

She led him to the elevator and up to floor nineteen, evading his stammered questions. Then, outside the door to Magnus’ suite, she paused.

“Want me to get it?” she asked.

“You do have a free hand.” He was blushing, though Alex had a feeling he’d deny it if she called him out.

She unlocked his door for the second time that day, and—also for the second time—wished she had a camera.

“Alex,” Magnus whispered, his jaw basically on the floor by this point when he laid eyes on the sight before him.

Alex nudged him all the way inside and shut the door, stepping back beside him to survey her handiwork. Not bad, if she did say so herself.

In addition to the Valhalla-provided decor, Alex had ordered a bouquet of roses up to the room, then plucked off all the petals and scattered them on the grass under the tree in the center of the atrium. The delivery from Fadlan’s Falafel waited too, spread out like a picnic among the petals (because even on Valentine’s Day, Amir could be counted on).

“You did all this for me?” The wonder in Magnus’ voice made Alex’s heart clench.

“No, I did it for Utgard-Loki,” Alex rolled her eyes. “Yes, for you, you moron.”

He laughed as he knelt down on the grass, setting down the gifts. “And the axe?”

“Well I thought, considering you have a sentient sword and all, it’d be kind of weird to get you a chocolate one of those. Jack might be offended.”

“Good point.” Still blushing, Magnus tugged Alex down to sit next to him. “Thank you. You… you didn’t have to do all this, though.”

Alex tried not to panic. “But you said you liked Valentine’s Day.”

Magnus’ smile went soft. “Alex,” he squeezed her hand, “I do like Valentine’s Day. But I like you more. You don’t need to prove yourself, or whatever all this is about.”

Alex worried now she might be the one blushing. She tugged her hand away and mustered a sarcastic tone. “Well, good. But enjoy this while it lasts, Chase, because after today, I’m back to my old ways.”

“Right,” Magnus just beamed at her. Clearly, he didn’t believe her for a second.

“I’m serious,” she insisted.

He only nodded. “So… I have to ask. No pink today?” He gestured at her clothes.

Alex threw her hands in the air. “Why is everyone asking me about that?”

“Well, it’s your thing.”

Alex huffed and flopped backward on the grass. “I’m accessorizing with the holiday.”

Magnus leaned on one elbow and smirked down at her. “Well, it’s not accessorizing if you’re not wearing the holiday, is it?” With that, he picked up the bouquet, pulled a carnation blossom out, and tucked it behind Alex’s ear. “There.”

Alex smiled but didn’t remove the flower. “You’re a doofus.”

Magnus shrugged. He looked, Alex thought, far too pleased for his own good. Unacceptable; Alex was supposed to be the smug one right now, having orchestrated the best Valentine’s Day ever. “Hey,” she said, “you do like the presents, right?”

“Yeah,” Magnus said, his smile widening. “I do. It’s… more than anybody’s ever…” He trailed off, and Alex didn’t press him.

“Good,” was all she said, sitting up. “Now, are you hungry? It’s close enough to lunchtime.”

They feasted on Fadlan’s for a while, fighting over who got the last stuffed grape leaf and giggling about the confetti that had weaved its way into Magnus’ hair.

“By the way,” Magnus said while they broke apart the chocolate axe with great enthusiasm, “why no hemlock?”

Alex’s eyebrows rose. “You wanted me to send you a bouquet of poisonous flowers.”

“Hey, I mean, you decapitated me the day we met. Hemlock kind of seems par for the course.”

“Out of context, that would sound bizarre,” Alex observed.

“ _In_ context, it sounds bizarre.” At that, they both burst into laughter.

After they recovered, Alex noticed a box nestled among the flower petals. She picked it up. “Oh my gods.”

“Is that what I think it is?” Eager, Magnus snatched it out of her hands. He ripped open the thin cardboard lid.

“Yeah. I guess the Hotel gave us a gift for the occasion.”

“Awesome,” Magnus declared, and popped a pair of the conversation hearts into his mouth.

“You _like_ those?”

“Yeah,” Magnus looked askance.

“Ugh, why do I tolerate you?”

Magnus shrugged. “I have other charms.”

“Whatever. Enjoy eating your artificially-flavored chalk.”

In response, Magnus only rooted through the box for a moment, then handed Alex a candy. She looked down at it and laughed.

_BE MINE_

She grabbed the box and tipped its contents onto the grass, searching for an appropriate reply.

_GET REAL_

Which, of course, sparked more conversation:

_KISS ME_

_ONE KISS_

Seeing that answer, Magnus seemed to light up. Alex tried not to smile, and kissed him quickly to disguise it. When they broke apart, though, and he handed her another heart, she couldn’t help herself.

_YOU RULE_

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

Magnus chuckled, but then he inhaled sharply. “Wait. We didn’t open our actual valentines!”

He scrambled to find them, tossing Alex her rose over his shoulder. She freed the envelope from the stem, slit it open, and withdrew the offensive hot pink paper inside—of course shaped like a heart. At least this time, in true Hotel Valhalla style, it was an anatomically accurate one.

Written in rather impressive calligraphy were Magnus’ words:

_Alex,_  
_I’m not good with words, and besides, I don’t think I can beat my past self at this kind of thing. So just know that I meant everything I said on Naglfar. And more. And I still mean it, every day. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me._  
_Happy Valentine’s Day!_  
_—Your Magnus_

“Well, shit goddamn,” Alex muttered. And using the reflexes of an einherji, she dove at Magnus in an attempt to grab the valentine from his hands.

“Alex!” He tried to fight her off. “What are you doing?”

“You ass!” she cried. “You have to go be all sentimental and sweet and shit? Don’t read mine!”

Magnus managed to get to his feet and leap away, still holding the valentine. “Well, now I have to!” He ripped the envelope open, and Alex hid her face in her hands.

She knew what he was reading. Remembered with vivid clarity writing those words on the order form. She’d been so distracted with arranging everything else that she’d forgotten to change them. Now, they were rendered in stunning penmanship, totally ruining everything.

_To Magnus,_  
_You must be a fungus because you’re growing on me._  
_Happy Valentine’s Day._  
_—Alex_

A second of agonizing silence. And then— Magnus’ laughter.

Alex looked up to find him almost doubled over. “Figures,” he gasped. “You go to all this trouble to prove you don’t mind romance, and you still write this godsawful pun as a valentine?”

He dropped back onto the grass next to Alex. She was about to protest, to defend her choice of message, when he tugged her close.

This was their second kiss to taste like chocolate, but Alex thought this one beat the last by a long shot.

* * *

Later, they grumbled as they were shepherded hand in hand down a hall toward the battleground.

“Come on, Helgi!” Magnus protested. “It’s Valentine’s Day!”

“I am well aware. However, Odin declared the battle will still go on. We cannot allow a holiday to interfere with preparing for Ragnarok.”

“Way to kill the mood,” Alex muttered.

Helgi just shrugged and deposited them outside the doors among many other disgruntled einherjar. Alex easily located Mallory on Halfborn’s shoulders, both with streaks of chocolate around their mouths and battle lust sparkling in their eyes. She also noticed T.J., who caught her eye and shook his head at their friends. She grinned back.

The doors opened, and the warriors moved forward. Except for Magnus, who froze. Alex, still holding his hand, staggered and turned to him. “What’s your problem?”

Magnus’ eyes were wide. “It’s Thursday.”

Alex sucked in a sharp breath. “Dragons.”

As if in response, a deafening roar sounded in front of them, followed by screams. Alex glanced in that direction, then caught sight of the carts of bows and arrows, making a proud return. She cursed. A distance away stood a lindworm, made up with pink and silver glitter and looking utterly incensed about it.

“Well,” Magnus pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, “let’s do this. Happy Valentine’s Day, Alex!”

He dashed toward the nearest cart and seized a pair of weapons. Alex watched him sling a quiver over his shoulder. He held the other out for her, knowing she’d be there to take it.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Magnus,” Alex murmured, and ran to his side.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to [elizabethelizabeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizabethelizabeth) for assistance, hilarious comments, and brilliant title suggestions!


End file.
